


Who is in Control?

by WildWolf25



Series: Shatt Week 2017 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Brainwashing, Dark, Dark!Matt, Family, Fears/Phobias, Gen, Lance is a great big brother, Mind Control, My first work for shatt week and it's not even shippy whoops, don't worry he comes back from it though, questionable science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-15 01:20:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11795460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildWolf25/pseuds/WildWolf25
Summary: Shiro wished more than anything that they could go back to those days, full of catching grasshoppers on sunny afternoons and rigging up elaborate Goldberg machine-style boobie traps around the house to drop water balloons on Matt’s sister.  Back when the biggest conflict they faced was Shiro trying to convince Matt that they couldn’t build a life-sized, fully-functioning robot for their project in the elementary school science fair.  Back when their hands were covered with grass-stains and dirt rather than blood-stains and scars.  Back when both of them had two hands made out of flesh and blood, rather than metal and wires.(Matt is turned into a weapon by the Galra.  When he is "captured" by Team Voltron, Shiro and Pidge help him come back to himself)





	Who is in Control?

**Author's Note:**

> My first ship week and I didn’t even do all the days (T-T) And to top it off, this isn’t even shippy. Oh well, it is hardcore Angst™. TBH in this one Matt needs to get his life figured out before he can worry about a relationship. The rest of my fics for this week are PLENTY shippy to cancel it out. 
> 
> Day 2 prompt options were: Fears/phobias, angst, Dark!Shiro/Dark!Matt/Dark!Shatt
> 
> Thank you to shipthepuppy for giving me advice about writing angst (I usually write fluff or comedy) and sending me a plethora of SAD SONGS to listen to in order to get in touch with my angst side.
> 
> There is one line that was inspired by [this](http://wildwolf25.tumblr.com/post/151555915701/cessierosedraws25-an-alternate-version-of-what) piece of art, so there's a small nod to it.

Matt knew something was different the moment the guards opened the door.  They never came with chains; it hindered the fighters too much, and made for a slow battle.  Slow battles were not as fun to watch.  The Galra prized shows of strength and bloodlust, flashing teeth and claws that left rivers of blood in their opponent’s flesh.  They liked to watch the gladiators struggle and reduce themselves to animalistic instinct and rage, so confining them in chains seldom happened, and Matt couldn’t think of why they were bringing them now.  For another thing, the guards now didn’t make them all get up.  Usually, when they were being taken to the arena, they took the whole cell at once.  But this time, the guard just pointed at him, the simple movement making Matt’s heart stop.  “Earthling.  You’ve been summoned.”

That was different, too.  Usually nothing was said to them other than a barked order to stand up.  Matt got to his feet, aware that every prisoner’s eyes were on him at that moment, and followed the guard out of the cell.  He was grabbed roughly around the arm and jerked forward by the guard, who decided he was moving too slow.  The other guard cuffed his hands together and shackled his feet.  The first guard shoved him between the shoulder blades, and Matt took that as his cue to start walking.  It was difficult, with the chain limiting his leg movement, and he was shoved a few more times whenever the guard thought he was slowing down.  

They led him through the underground tunnels of the prison, past the corridor that led to the arena, and into a cleaner but no less severe-looking labyrinth of tunnels.  It looked like some sort of military base.  Matt kept his head bowed, but his eyes flicked from side to side, studying the surroundings carefully.  Where were they taking him?  It wasn’t the mines, or the arena… had they finally decided he was of no more use to them, and they were taking him to be killed?  It didn’t seem likely; usually they let those ones just get finished off in the arena.  

They walked for a very long time, eventually taking him up a few elevators and down so many corridors that he lost track of which way they had turned.  He was completely lost, and angry at himself for losing his focus like that.  If he got lost and wasn’t able to escape because of it, it would be his own fault.  Escape didn’t seem likely, though, with how closely the guards watched him.  Their hands tightened around their weapons when he so much as stumbled, as though preparing to strike at him for making a break for it.  

Eventually, they came to a stop in front of a set of large, ornate double doors made of the purple-gray metal the Galra favored with red embellishments.  The guard in front knocked, and the door opened.  Matt was shoved forward, stumbling over the chain between his feet.  When he looked up again, his stomach sank.  Seated on the throne at the end of the room was the emperor Zarkon himself, with that druid witch at his side.  Matt couldn’t remember ever hearing her name, but the hooded figure seemed to never leave Zarkon’s side, from what Matt could tell from seeing them in the crowd at the arena.  He had no idea why Zarkon had brought him here, but he knew whatever the reason, it couldn’t be good.  

The guards pulled him to a halt a little ways away from the throne, standing to either side of him.  Zarkon tapped his fingers against the arm of his throne.  “Earthling, do you know why I have summoned you here?”  

Matt gave the Galra emperor a stony glare and said nothing.  After a few moments of silence, one of the guards smacked him upside the head.  “Answer him!”  

Matt grit his teeth and held his silence, which only earned him a spear-butt jammed into his stomach from the other guard.  “Answer the emperor!”  The guard growled, claws twisting into his hair to keep him upright.  

Matt leveled his gaze at the emperor.  “No.”

“No,  _ your majesty _ .”  The first guard corrected, giving his head a sharp yank.  Matt said nothing.  He refused to give any sort of respect to this monster.  The guard raised a hand to strike him again for his insolence, but Zarkon spoke up.

“Let him have this last moment of pitiful resistance.”  He said, smirking.  “It’s all he has left.”

The guard lowered his hand, but he didn’t look happy about it. Zarkon rose and walked to the window.  Outside, hundreds of stars and nebulas glowed.  The view would have been spectacular, had Matt not been afraid for his life.

“The other Earthling, Champion, has escaped.”  Zarkon said.  Matt felt like he had been doused in ice water.  Shiro was still alive?  He had escaped?  

...Why hadn’t he taken Matt with him?

Matt tried to silence that voice in his head.  Escaping the Galra couldn’t have been easy; surely, he must have been pressed for time and had only been able to get himself out.  He wouldn’t have had time to run around searching for Matt.  They had been separated after Shiro had beaten Myzax and had been awarded the title of Champion.  For months now, Matt had had no idea if Shiro was even still on the same ship and he just hadn’t seen his battles, or if he had been moved somewhere else.  Worse yet, he had had no idea if he was even alive.  

“He managed to steal an evacuation pod during his escape.  He ran back to Earth, likely with his tail between his legs like a coward.”  Zarkon said, and Matt had to stop himself from shouting that Shiro was not a coward, he was far braver than Zarkon ever could be.  “We have no doubt that he will return, though.  Earthling humans are communal creatures, after all.  Your kind’s tendency to value other humans’ lives will be your ultimate downfall, and his as well.  He’ll come back for you, and that older Earthling, though I cannot imagine why.”

Matt kept his face expressionless, but he wanted to scream inside.  He wanted to tell Shiro that he wasn’t worth it, don’t come back, stay as far away from this wretched place as possible.

Zarkon turned around, smiling cruelly.  “When he does return, let’s give him a little surprise.”  

The guard on Matt’s right raised his spear and struck Matt on the back of the head with the butt of it, and the last thing he saw before he blacked out was the druid walking towards him.   

~~~~~

“Hey, Allura,” Hunk lowered his voice as he spoke to the princess.  “I know that helping these people is important, I really do, but I can’t help but feel like we should leave soon.”  They had been on this planet for two days already, helping the aliens that lived there repair their city after they had dared to overthrow the Galra officers that had colonized it.  The resistance had been in danger of being crushed, but someone had managed to send a distress signal that the Castle of Lions had picked up, and Voltron had come to their aid.  With the Galra colonizers defeated, this planet was now free.  Their freedom had come at a heavy price, though, and much of the capital city was destroyed. It was all Voltron could do to help them rebuild, since they were now allies.  

Allura frowned.  “I know what you mean.”  She said quietly.  “The Galra seem to attack anytime we stay in one place for too long.  However, since these people were able to overthrow them, the Galra would likely target them anyway in retaliation.  Perhaps it is better that we stay, to defend them.”  She crossed her arms and exhaled slowly through her nose.  “Or will we simply be drawing them here?  But surely, the Galra will not overlook this...”  She seemed to be talking more to herself now, turning the matter over, so Hunk let her be and went back to handing out medical kits to the aliens that were ferrying them to an impromptu hospital-tent that had been set up nearby.  

A few hours later, a loud gasp and murmured whispering from the aliens caught his attention.  Several of the aliens were pointing up at the sky, frowns pinching their features.  The paladins turned around and saw what looked like a gray pod streaking through the sky, the tail glowing brightly as it shot through the atmosphere.  It crashed into the planet, embedding itself in the dirt a short distance away from them.  When the dust cleared and they were able to see it a bit more clearly, they all felt a jolt go through them; they recognized this design.  Although it was much smaller, it was the same type of Galra-made pod that had brought Myzax to Arus, and the creature with hundreds of laser eyes to the Balmera.  

“Aw, man, I hate it when I’m right…” Hunk muttered, running over to the rest of the paladins.

“Should we get in our lions?”  Pidge asked.

“There’s no time.”  Shiro said.  Their lions were all still in their hangers in the castle, since they hadn’t needed them after they finished the battle a couple of days ago.  

“It doesn’t… look very big…” Lance said, a hint of a question in his voice.  He was right; whereas the other two Galra pods had been enormous to house the monsters, this one was just a bit taller than a human.  It looked a bit like a coffin. 

They all drew their bayards, eyeing the pod as it sat silently for a few moments.  Suddenly, the walls fell apart, revealing a young man standing there with his eyes closed.  

Pidge gasped.  “Matt!”  She lunged forward, but Shiro caught her arm.  “Shiro, let go!  That’s my brother!”

“No, something about this isn’t right…” Shiro said, frowning.  This was too suspicious… why would Matt be in a Galra pod?    

A moment later, Matt’s eyes opened suddenly, revealing flat yellow eyes that glowed slightly, like a Galra’s, and a cruel grin twisted his mouth into an expression Shiro had never seen on him.  Pidge’s breath caught in her throat.  

“What did they do to him?”  She asked quietly, her voice shaking slightly.  

Matt raised his left arm with his palm out, and they could see that his hand was made of metal like Shiro’s.  His palm began to glow purple, a humming sound filling the air and growing louder.  

“Duck!”  Keith shouted, just a moment before a purple laser beam shot out of the center of his palm.  Shiro barely managed to jump to the side as the laser went streaking past him, leaving a large scorch mark on a boulder behind him.  

“Matt!”  Pidge yelled.  He gave no indication he had heard her as he took a step forward, yellow eyes locked on Shiro.  

“It’s been awhile, Champion.”  Matt said.  That name falling from Matt’s lips sent a shiver down Shiro’s spine.  That voice… that wasn’t Matt.  It couldn’t be; Shiro had never heard Matt sound so cold, like sharpened steel.  Matt kept walking toward him, that cruel smirk still on his face.  “You’re not the only one the druids got to play with.  In fact, you left before they could do much of anything with you.”  He lifted his right hand and a blade shot out over the top of his metal fingers, glinting in the light.  “Did you think you were special, Champion, for besting Myzax?  You’re not.  I’ve defeated him, and now I’ll defeat you too.  I’ll rip that title of Champion right out of your hands.”  He grinned, teeth flashing in the light.  “And then, I’ll bring the emperor your head on a stake.”  He lifted his left hand again, the laser humming as it charged up.  Shiro dodged it again, rolling to the side and barely having enough time to scramble out of its path.  

From behind a boulder, he saw Lance charge forward, his gun raised.  “Lance, no!”  Shiro’s shout was cut off as Lance fired his gun.  The blue laser shot forward, hitting Matt’s foot.  It blew his shoe off and part of the lower leg of his pants, revealing yet another smooth metal limb.  His foot itself seemed to be unscathed, and he merely frowned at it as though he had stepped in something sticky rather than had a laser blasted at it.  He rounded on Lance, who let out a yelp and managed to duck behind a boulder to avoid the blast sent his way.  Lance leaned around the boulder to fire at him more.   

“No!”  Pidge shouted.  “Don’t hurt him!”  

“Pidge, no offense, but your brother is trying to kill us!”  Hunk replied he dodged yet another purple laser by ducking behind another large boulder.  “What are we supposed to do?!” 

“Incapacitate him, but don’t kill him!”  Shiro shouted, his heart pounding with adrenaline and fear; even though he was attacking them, the thought that Matt might be killed in the fight was too much for him to bear.

“You are a fool, Champion.” Matt called out.  “I’m a soldier of the Galra empire. Nothing will stop me except victory or death.”  

Pidge growled and lunged out from behind their boulder.  “You’re not a soldier!  You’re a conspiracy theory loving science nerd and  _ you’re my brother _ !”  

Matt had half a second to look confused before Pidge barrelled into him, making him stumble backwards.  His eyes widened.  “K-Katie?  What-- _ ah _ !”  His entire expression shifted into a scowl and he swung at Pidge.  She ducked and he overshot her, giving her the chance to jam her bayard into his back.  He cried out as green electricity sparked across him and he dropped to his knees.  “Katie, get back!  I can’t--  _ ah _ !”  A shudder wracked through him, then he growled as he got to his feet.  “Sending your pawns out instead of facing me head-on, Champion?  You’re even more of a coward than I thought…”  

“Shut  _ up _ !”  Pidge roared, tackling him to the ground.  He rolled them until he had Pidge pinned instead and lifted his arm, firing up the laser.  

“Jabbering Earthling, what are you on about?”  He growled.  “My quarrel is with Champion; I don’t care about his pawns.”  

“I’m your  _ sister _ , Bolt-Brains!”  Pidge yelled, then delivered a mean left hook right to his cheek, knocking him off.  

Pidge scrambled backwards and got to her feet while Matt was still on the ground.  He grunted and shuddered, letting out a gasp. “Katie, I don’t have much time, you have to--” he broke off with a strangled-sounding growl and his fingers dug into the dirt.   He jerked strangely, as if something was trying to claw its way out from within him.  “Back of my neck… hit it…  _ augh _ !” His eyes narrowed and he jumped to his feet, instantly on guard again.  

“Pidge!”  Keith came charging out from behind his boulder, swinging his sword.  “Shiro wants you!”  He twisted to avoid a laser sent in his direction.  Pidge’s eyes widened.

“What,  _ now _ ?!”  They were in the middle of a battle; they didn’t exactly have time for a conference!

“Just go!”  Hunk yelled, shooting his gun at Matt’s laser hand.  The sleeve of his shirt disintegrated but his metal arm remained unscathed.  Pidge hesitated only a moment before running back to the boulder where Shiro was, passing Lance as he ran to help the other two.  

Pidge skidded to a halt next to Shiro.  “They’re controlling him somehow, they’ve got to be.”  She told him.  “He said we needed to hit the back of his neck.”  

Shiro nodded, his gaze calculating.  “You and I will sneak up from behind while the others are distracting him.  One of us on each side.  Whoever he doesn’t spot first, strike the back of his neck.”  

“What if that kills him?”  Pidge asked.

Shiro raised his eyes to meet hers.  “Let’s hope it doesn’t.”  There wasn’t much else they could do, in this situation.  

Pidge nodded tersely and the two of them separated, each running in an opposite direction and ducking behind more boulders when they could.  Pidge only just managed to dive behind a boulder before a laser streaked past, obliterating the shrubby-looking tree a few feet to her left.  She snuck around the boulder and peeked out, gauging the situation.  Matt was occupied fighting off Keith, Hunk, and Lance; the latter two had resorted to hand-to-hand combat, as it was too chaotic and risky to use their guns in such close melee.  Pidge caught sight of Shiro behind a boulder on the other side of the circle.  He nodded, and the two of them charged forward.  Matt grinned maniacally when he saw Shiro and threw Lance off before lifting his hand to shoot at the black paladin, leaving his back exposed.  Pidge tackled him from behind, the two of them falling to the ground.  Matt tried to throw her off, but Pidge shoved his face into the dirt, eyes searching the back of his neck.  She refused to just strike; being careless could kill him.  There!  At the base of his neck, half-hidden under his hair, was what looked like a purple gem with something foggy swirling inside.  

She drew back her bayard.  “Give me back my brother!”  She shouted, slamming the glowing bayard into the gem.  It shattered, purple liquid splattering out of it.  Matt cried out, then went went limp, his eyes closed.  

Pidge felt her heart stop at the sight of him, lifeless underneath her.  “Matt!”  She climbed off of him and rolled him over, but he didn’t wake up.  “Matt!  Mattie!”  

Shiro pressed two fingers to Matt’s pulse point, frowning.  He said nothing for several heart-stopping moments, then nodded and released a tense exhale.  “He’s alive.”  

“Oh, thank God,” Pidge whispered, cradling his head.  

“The question is,” Keith spoke up.  “Is he going to attack us again?”  His grip tightened around the shaft of his sword, as though he expected Matt to jump up at any moment.  

“We should get him back to the castle and put him in a cryotube.”  Lance said.  “If he’s safe now, he can heal.  If he’s still a threat, we can keep him there in stasis until we figure out what’s wrong with him.”  

Pidge nodded.  “They must have done something to him.  He would have never acted like this on his own.”  

Hunk knelt down and examined the fragments of whatever had been on the back of Matt’s neck. He took out a vial and scooped some shards of glass and as much of the liquid as he could get into it.  “I’ll bring this back to Coran, see if we can figure out what this stuff is and how it works.”  

“Pidge,” Shiro said, laying a hand on her shoulder.  “I’ll get him.”  

Pidge nodded and allowed Shiro to pick up Matt’s limp body.  Shiro stood up, looking down at his face sadly as the group headed back to the castle-ship.

~~~~~

While Allura quickly wrapped up negotiations with the locals so they could leave, Shiro and Pidge got Matt into a cryotube, and Coran and Hunk disappeared into the lab with the vial.  Pidge brought up the control screen and studied Matt’s vitals, Shiro looking over her shoulder.  

“Blood pressure and adrenaline levels are a little high, but that’s not surprising, considering the fight.”  She frowned at the screen.  “High levels of an unidentified toxin in the bloodstream… I don’t recognize this molecular structure at all.”  

“Maybe that was what they were using to control him.”  Shiro said.  

“Is that even possible?”  Pidge wondered aloud.  “How…?”  

“I guess we’ll have to see what Coran and Hunk are able to find out.”  Shiro said.  

Pidge nodded grimly.  She tapped through the screens.  An humanoid outline appeared, dialog boxes pointing to the limbs, which were colored differently starting at the shoulder and hip joints.  Pidge’s fingers stilled as she read the information.  “No… they… they replaced all of his limbs with cybernetic prosthetics?”  She pressed a hand over her mouth and looked up at the cryotube.  “Matt… Oh, Mattie…”  

Shiro’s own cyborg hand tightened into a fist.  Although he still had so many gaps in his memory, he could remember flashes of memories of that time; the raw pain of the operation, being strapped down to the cold metal table while the druids hacked into his arm.  He could still feel a phantom pain there, sometimes, but most of the time it was just numb.  And that was just half of his arm.  He couldn’t imagine going through that process more than three-fold.  

Pidge checked his vitals again, then stepped away from the screen.  She sat down on the step next to the cryotube and leaned her elbows on her knees, forehead pressed to her hands as if in prayer.  Shiro sat down next to her.  

“I’m guessing you’re not going to leave this spot until he wakes up?”  Shiro said.  Pidge nodded.  “Mind if I stay with you?”  He asked.  Pidge shook her head, eyes still closed.  The two of them sat quietly for a while, each absorbed in their own thoughts.  Neither spoke aloud, but after a while, Shiro noticed Pidge’s lips were moving, and if he listened carefully he could hear snatches of whispered foreign words.  He recognized the language as Hebrew, having heard Dr. Holt occasionally on the mission, and Matt during their time in the Galra prison.  

The door opened, and both of them looked toward it eagerly, hoping it would be Coran with some answers.  But it was just Lance and Keith, each of them carrying a plate of food goo.  Pidge looked away when she saw it wasn’t Coran.

“Figured we’d find you here.”  Lance said.  Keith handed a plate to Shiro, who accepted it with a quiet thanks.  Lance held out the plate for Pidge, but she didn’t move to take it.  

“I’m not hungry.”  Pidge said, forehead pressed to her folded hands once more.  

Lance crouched down in front of her.  “Pidge, starving yourself isn’t going to help him heal any faster.”  He touched her shoulder.  “Come on, just try?”

Pidge said nothing for several long moments, then sighed and accepted the plate.  Lance squeezed her shoulder and offered her a small smile.  

Keith moved so that he was standing in front of the cryotube, frowning up at the figure inside.  Pidge froze with her spoon halfway to her mouth, watching him carefully.  Keith noticed her eyes on him and slowly lifted his hands.  “I’m not going to do anything.  I’m just looking.”  

Pidge gave him a pointed look.  She might as well have gestured between her eyes and his and muttered  _ I’m watching you _ .  But she continued eating.  

Lance stood up and joined Keith, studying Matt.  “It looks like his arm is like yours, Shiro.”  He said, pointing to the metal arm clearly visible under the tattered shirt sleeve.  He frowned, his gaze dropping to his feet.  “His foot, too.”  

“Both arms.”  Pidge said, her voice quiet.  “Both legs.”  

Keith swore quietly.   Just then, the doors opened behind them, and Allura came in.  

“I finished wrapping things up with the locals and got the ship to outer space, so I figured I would come check on things here.”  She walked over to them and looked up at the cryotube.  “So, this is the brother you’ve been searching for, Pidge?”  

Pidge nodded.  “I think so.”

Allura looked at her.  “You think so?  How can you not be sure?”

Pidge was quiet for a moment.  “I’m not sure if he’s still in there.”

Shiro knew what she meant.  It hadn’t seemed like Matt, the person they had been fighting before.  He had never seen Matt fight like that, nor had he ever seen such a cruel expression on his face.  He hadn’t seemed to remember his sister, except for a few brief moments, and Shiro was certain that Matt had never called him ‘Champion’.  The only indication that he was still in there was the few fleeting moments when he had said ‘Katie’. 

“How long do you think it’ll be until he wakes up?”  Lance wondered.  

“It’s difficult to say.”  Allura said, checking the screens.  “We don’t know exactly what is wrong with him yet.  There may be more damage than there appears to be on the surface.”  

“Princess, is it possible for someone to… turn Galra?”  Pidge asked.  

Allura hesitated.  “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of such a thing…” she trailed off.  

Pidge looked up.  “But…?”

Allura sighed.  “I’m afraid my knowledge is a bit dated.  Ten thousand years ago, it was thought to be impossible to harvest quintessence and use it to extend someone’s life, and yet Zarkon has been able to do it.  We have no way of knowing if he discovered some way to ‘turn’ someone Galra as well.”  

Pidge looked down at her feet, not looking reassured by this information at all.  

“Pidge,” Allura said quietly.  “I know you’re worried about him, but please don’t neglect taking care of yourself.  You just had a difficult battle; you should eat, shower, and get some rest.”  

“My brother has been missing for two years.”  Pidge said.  “I’m not letting him out of my sight.”  

“He isn’t going anywhere right now.”  Allura reminded her.  “Take care of yourself now, and you’ll be better off when he does wake up.”  

Pidge said nothing for several moments, then sighed.  “I’ll think about it.”  

Allura nodded.  “I’ll go back to the bridge.  The rest of you, get some rest while you can.”  

She left, and Lance and Keith left shortly after her, leaving Shiro and Pidge alone again.  

“We probably should get some rest.”  Shiro acknowledged.  

“Probably.”  Pidge said, but didn’t move.  

“You’re not going to, are you?”  

“No.”  Pidge said.  “You?”

Shiro paused to think about it.  He was just as hesitant to leave Matt alone, but he also knew that there was nothing they could do until he woke up, and they had no idea how long that would be.  “We can take it in turns.”  

Pidge shrugged.  “Sure, I guess.  You can go first.”  

Shiro stood up, then leaned down to touch Pidge’s shoulder.  “He’s going to be okay, Pidge.”  

She didn’t look up at him.  “I really hope so.”  Her voice came out quiet.

~~~~~

Shiro didn’t bother to do much more than take a hot shower and get dressed again before heading back to the cryotube room.  He was a little tired, but not enough to sleep.  Just sitting down would be good enough for now, and he wanted Pidge to have a chance to shower as well.  

It still took a little convincing to get Pidge to move from her spot, and she only left when Shiro reassured her several times that if anything changed, he would find her immediately.  When Pidge finally left, Shiro stood in front of the cryotube, looking up at Matt.  He didn’t want to think about what the druids might have done to him, but images were flashing through his mind anyway, sparked by what he could remember from his own fractured memories.  How soon after they had been separated had this happened?  Why had they done this?  Shiro remembered that the druids seldom wasted their time altering the lower-level fighters, preferring to focus their efforts on the bigger and more prestigious gladiators, the ones who had fought and clawed their way to the top with bloodstained hands.  Bloodlust was apparently important to the Galra who watched the matches, and Matt had never had that sense of bloodlust in the slightest.  He had always hated the physical training classes at the Galaxy Garrison, preferring to surround himself with books and theories and science.  It was one of the reasons they worked so well together; Shiro taught Matt how to fight and pass the obstacle course, and Matt helped Shiro with his studying.  It had been their dynamic since they were much younger, when Shiro would drag Matt to gym class whenever he tried to skip it, and Matt tutored him in science and math class.

Shiro wished more than anything that they could go back to those days, full of catching grasshoppers on sunny afternoons and rigging up elaborate Goldberg machine-style boobie traps around the house to drop water balloons on Matt’s sister.  Back when the biggest conflict they faced was Shiro trying to convince Matt that they couldn’t build a life-sized, fully-functioning robot for their project in the elementary school science fair.  Back when their hands were covered with grass-stains and dirt rather than blood-stains and scars.  Back when both of them had two hands made out of flesh and blood, rather than metal and wires.  

Shiro frowned as he studied Matt’s face.  Even asleep, he still looked tense.  He looked older, somehow, and not just two years older.  The lines in his face were deep with exhaustion, and he seemed paler after months without sunlight.  Shiro hadn’t realized it before, but Matt had a shock of white hair like himself, growing off to the side and tucked behind his ear.  There was also a pretty sizable scar slashed across his right cheek, pale in the greenish light of the cryotube.  

“Anything happen?”  Pidge’s voice behind him took him by surprise.  He wasn’t sure if he had been standing there longer than he had realized, or if Pidge had just been really quick.  Both were very real possibilities.  

“No,” he said.  “Have a good shower?”  

“Fantastic.”  Pidge’s voice was flat as she checked her brother’s vitals again, tucking a wet lock of hair behind her ear.  “Adrenaline and blood pressure are back down to normal range.  Unidentified toxin only down three percent from the previous levels.”  She sighed and took a seat on the step again.  

“You should probably get some sleep.”  Shiro said.  

“I’m fine.  You can sleep if you want.”  Pidge said.  

“I’m as fine as you are.”  Shiro said, taking a seat beside her.  

“So not fine.”  Pidge said.

Shiro gave her a sidelong look.  “You’re saying you’re not fine?”

Pidge said nothing for several long moments, then she released a heavy sigh and hugged her knees to her chest, resting her chin on top.  “Yeah.”  

Shiro didn’t know what to say to that.  He wanted to say that Matt would be okay, but he felt like the words were just empty hope.  Matt might not wake up.  Even if he did wake up, there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t still be under Galra control and start attacking them again.  He didn’t want to think about that possibility, because that would mean having to detain Matt, and he wasn’t sure that was something he or Pidge would be able to do.  Even the best case scenario -- Matt waking up and being free of Galra control -- looked pretty bleak; he would still be left having to deal with the trauma of his imprisonment and the druids’ experimentation, still have to learn to live with the physical and mental scars, and Shiro knew from first-hand experience that that was not an easy or pleasant process at all. 

They both looked up at the sound of the door opening again, but it was just Lance and Keith again, each of them carrying blankets and pillows.  

“What on Earth are you doing?”  Shiro asked, bemused.

“We’re not on Earth anymore, Shiro, get with the program.”  Lance teased, dropping his pile of blankets on the floor in front of the two of them.  

“We figured we couldn’t drag you two off to bed, so we thought we would drag the beds to you.”  Keith tossed a few pillows on top of the blankets.  

“You guys are ridiculous.”  Pidge didn’t look impressed.  Lance snuck up behind her and tickled her sides, making her yelp and twist out of her seat, landing on the blanket nest.  “Lance!”

“Hey, it was that or pick you up, and last time I did that you almost bit me.”  Lance shrugged, kicking off his shoes and joining her.  He pushed Pidge onto her back, head on the pillow.  “Now go the quiznak to sleep.”  

“I’m not tired.”  Pidge protested, sitting up.  

“Fine, then we brought cards.”  Keith said, holding up a deck.  

“I don’t want to play cards.”  Pidge shook her head.  

“Well you can’t just sit there and worry for an indefinite amount of time.”  Lance said.  “You’re going to make yourself sick.  You’re as bad at self-care as Keith.”

“I resent that, but I’m not going to deny it.”  Keith shrugged, shuffling the deck.  

Pidge growled in frustration.  “Fine.  I’ll play your stupid card game.”  

“What should we play?”  Lance asked.

“BS, but instead of saying ‘BS’ we have to say ‘Lance’.”  Pidge grumbled.

“I’m down for that.”  Keith said, dealing out the cards.  

“ _ Hey _ !”  Lance let out an incredulous squawk.  

~~~~~  

Two rounds of BS, a group power nap, one failed attempt at Lance teaching everyone poker that ended with Keith throwing his cards at Lance’s head and accusing him of cheating, and three rounds of Texas hold ‘em later, the doors opened again and Hunk and Coran walked in.  Pidge immediately abandoned her attempts to see the cards in Lance’s hands and asked them if they had found out anything.

“Well, there’s good news and bad news.”  Hunk said.

“What’s the good news?”  Keith asked.

“The good news is that we managed to identify the nano-chemicals in the fluid and found out how they were affecting the brain’s neurotransmitters to let the Galra control him.”  Coran said.  

“And the bad news?”  Shiro asked.

“We weren’t able to figure out what the half-life of the chemicals was, so we don’t know how long it will take to get out of his system.”  Hunk said.  

“We also weren’t able to tell if there would be any long-term effects from the toxin.”  Coran added.  “All we can do at this point is wait.”  

Pidge made a frustrated noise and flopped onto her back, arms spread out and a scowl pinching her face.  “I hate waiting.”   

~~~~~

It was still another day and a half until Matt was healed enough to leave the pod.  Since they didn’t know if Matt would still try to attack them, they had his cryotube set to automatically switch to stasis after the healing was finished, rather than just opening and risking him wandering around confused while they were training, or worse even attack them.  Pidge checked on him between training and meals, and it wasn’t until after lunch that she found the green light blinking on Matt’s pod.  

“It worked!”  She yelled, running over to the controls.  Shiro heard her and ran after her, the rest of the group following suit.  Pidge checked over his vitals.  “The toxin is down to twenty-five percent, so he should be able to override it.”  

“But what if he can’t?”  Keith asked.  

“Then we’ll put him back in until it’s completely out of his system and try again.”  Shiro said.  He didn’t want to think about what would happen if that didn’t work out.  

Coran tapped the buttons to release him from stasis, and the cryotube opened with a billow of cold steam.  Matt didn’t move for a few moments, then grimaced and pried his eyes open.  Allura took a step back and Coran had a hand over the controls to lock him back in when they saw that his eyes were still yellow.  

“Wait,” Keith said, holding up a hand.  Matt blinked at all of them, looking confused.  His eyes were yellow, yes, but no longer the flat color they had been before.  Rather, it looked like a translucent yellow lens was covering his eyes, the hazel irises and black pupils still visible underneath.  He blinked and looked around.  

“Wh… where am I?”  His gaze fell on Pidge and Shiro, standing at the front of the group.  “Katie?  What happened to your hair?  And Shiro… what happened to  _ your _ hair?  Who are all these people?  What’s going on?”  

“We’ll explain everything we can, Matt.”  Pidge said.  

“First, though, you don’t happen to have any homicidal feelings at the moment?”  Lance asked.  Pidge shot him a withering look.

“W-what?”  Matt looked confused.  “Why would I…?”  He trailed off for a moment, lost in thought, then shook his head.  “No.”  

“You’re sure about that?”  Keith asked, not looking convinced.  

Matt hesitated.  “Maybe?  I don’t understand why I would, though.  I… what happened to me?”  He took a step forward, wobbling uncertainly.  His legs were a little unsteady after being in the cryotube for so long.  Pidge stepped forward, but he managed to catch his balance.  He looked up and studied her face, as though he wasn’t sure what he was seeing.  “Your hair…” he reached out to touch it, but froze when she leaned back just a fraction and cast a nervous look at his arm.  He looked down at his hand, and his eyes widened.  “Wha… what happened to my hand?  My…” he turned both hands over, staring at them like he couldn’t believe what he was looking at.  “No… what’s going on?”  

“Matt, what do you remember?”  Pidge asked.  

“I… what happened to me?!”  Matt staggered back a few steps, staring down at his own hands in horror.  

“We’re trying to figure that out.”  Shiro said.  “What is the last thing you remember happening?”  

“I… I don’t know…” Matt looked like he was in danger of hyperventilating.  “I can’t… I can’t…” 

“Matt,” Pidge stepped forward, ignoring Lance’s hissed warning not to get too close.  She walked right up to him and circled her fingers around his wrists, guiding his arms down and out of sight.  The metal was cold against her skin.  “Look at me.  You need to calm down.”  Pidge looked right into his wide, terrified eyes, trying to see past the yellow haze that was still over them.  “Take a deep breath.  In and out,” she took a deep breath herself, and he followed her.  After a few breaths, he seemed a little calmer, but he still looked a bit like a deer in the headlights.  

“Do you remember anything?”  Shiro asked, heart pounding.  Would Matt have the same amnesia he had?  If he didn’t, would he be able to tell Shiro what had happened to him, too?  

Matt thought about it.  “They told me you escaped.  Then… then that druid knocked me out, and then… nothing.  I just woke up here.”  

The rest of the group exchanged worried looks and Shiro felt his heart fall.  

“Matt,” Shiro said slowly.  “I escaped close to a year ago.”  

Matt blinked.  “...What?  But then… what happened…?”  

“You’re sure you don’t remember anything else?”  Pidge asked.

Matt frowned, his brow furrowing as he concentrated.  After a couple of minutes, he shook his head.  “I can’t… that’s really the last thing I remember.”  

“Coran, do you think it’s possible to extract his memories like we did my father’s and Sendak’s?”  Allura asked.  

“It might be.”  Coran stroked his moustache thoughtfully.  “It’s worth a shot, I suppose.”  

Matt tensed up again, as though he had just noticed all of them.  “Katie, who are all these people?”  

“We’ll have time for a longer explanation later, but basically, um, how do I put this?”  Pidge thought about it.  “I’m part of a team working against the Galra and we pilot giant robot lions?”

Matt stared at her.  “Okay… now I know I’m dreaming.”  

“You’re not, actually.”  Pidge said.  

“We’ll explain everything as soon as we can.”  Shiro said.  “But right now, we should probably focus on getting the rest of the toxin out of you and trying to recover your memories.”  

“Toxin?”  He looked confused.  

“Your… your eyes are yellow, Matt.”  Pidge told him.

His eyes widened.  “ _ What _ ?”  

“They’re not as yellow as they were before, though, so that’s good!”  Pidge said quickly.

“So you really don’t remember attacking us?”  Keith asked.  Pidge shot him a glare and Matt looked bewildered.

“I… I did  _ what _ ?”  

“Yeah, you um, you kind of started attacking us.”  Pidge said.  

“I’d say it was a bit more definite than ‘kind of’, frankly.”  Hunk said.

“Why would I…?  I… I don’t understand…”  Matt looked shocked.  

“From what we can tell, the Galra injected you with some kind of toxin to control you.  It probably wiped out your memories too.”  Shiro said.  

Matt said nothing for a long minute, then he swayed a little.  “I… I need to sit down…” He sank to his knees, the action making a metallic  _ clang  _ when his knees hit the floor.  He propped his knee up, looking down at his foot.  His expression changed from confusion to horror as he realized that both feet were metal and that it extended all the way up his legs.  He pushed up his sleeves and found that it was the same case for his arms.  He looked up, his eyes wide and terrified.  “What did they do to me?”  He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.  

Pidge didn’t know what to say, so she just put her arms around him -- cautiously, not wanting to startle him -- and hugged him, tears pricking at her eyes.  She could feel the cold of his arms even through her shirt.  

Pidge managed to hold her tears back until they got Matt back in the cryotube.  It sealed him in with a beep, and Coran hooked up a smaller containment tube to it while Allura tapped through the control screen to start the memory extraction.  

“When did you manage to escape the Galra prison, Shiro?”  Allura asked.  

“Only about half a day before we got to the Castle of Lions back on Arus.”  Shiro said.  That had been so long ago… so much had happened in the interim.  But what had happened to Matt?  

Allura nodded.  “Then I’ll set the extraction around that time.  We won’t need the earlier memories, just the ones he doesn’t remember.”  

“Hey, where did Pidge go?”  Hunk asked.  They all looked around.  Coran, having just finished hooking up the containment tube, spotted the green paladin curled up in the space under the podium that the control panel was located on. 

“Whatever are you doing under there?”  He asked, bending down.  He got no response.  Lance peered around him and saw that Pidge had her face hidden in her folded arms on her knees, shoulders shaking slightly.  

Lance dropped to his knees and touched her shoulder, keeping his voice soft.  “Hey…”  

“He’s my brother… what did they do to my brother…?”  Pidge gasped out, her words watery. 

“I know, come here,” Lance drew her out from under the podium and into a hug, rubbing her back the way he would calm down any of his nieces or nephews if he found them crying.  

~~~~~

Lance and Hunk managed to coax Pidge away from the cryotube room, under the gentle but firm insistence that a little bit of distance might help her adjust to Matt’s situation, as well as with the promise of a snack to try and make her feel a bit better.  Allura and Coran retreated to the bridge, both of them looking worried and speaking in hushed tones about this new development that someone might be able to be ‘turned’ Galra.  Shiro hung back a few minutes to keep an eye on Matt, Keith hovering nearby to make sure he was okay, but eventually Shiro realized he wasn’t going to do any good just worrying here.  Keith suggested he go rest, but Shiro shook his head and pushed past him to the training deck.  Keith followed him, likely to make sure Shiro didn’t work himself into the ground.

Coran assured them that the memory extraction would take at least a quintant to complete, but that didn’t stop Pidge and Shiro from stopping by the cryopod room every few hours to check on him.  Shiro sometimes caught Allura in there too, a few times catching her standing in front of the cryotube and frowning up at the figure inside, brow furrowed in thought.  Pidge was probably the most frequent of them, though; she popped in every hour or so and bounced around the rest of the castle, shifting her weight or tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for him to wake up again.  Shiro, too, felt anxious and impatient for Matt to wake up, but his impatience was quieter, with less outward signs.  It was a dense, dark energy that swirled inside him, too big to be contained in his battered body, filling the cracks in his soul and threatening to burst out of him.  He channeled it into training, mostly, and helping the others with tasks around the castle, hoping to tire himself out enough to be able to sleep at night.  It didn’t work, and Shiro found himself easing open the door to the cryopod room in the middle of the castle’s night-cycle, only to find Pidge already curled up at the foot of Matt’s pod, a blanket tucked around her as she slept.  He slept as much as he could, the shattered and re-fused pieces of his heart assuaged by the knowledge that if Matt needed someone, they would both be right there, and Pidge didn’t seem surprised to find him next to her when she woke up the next morning.

After breakfast, Pidge bounced on her toes impatiently while Coran checked over Matt’s vitals and the memory extraction update.  “Can he come out yet?”  She asked, sounding more like a child asking a parent if their friend could come outside and play after finishing their homework.

“The toxin seems to have worked itself out of his system completely.”  Coran mused, tapping through the screens.  “As for the memory extraction, it’s nearly complete.”

“Will it create a hologram version of Matt, like with King Alfor?”  Shiro asked, remembering the AI from before.

“It’ll be a bit different.”  Coran explained.  “In that case, King Alfor was trying to preserve his entire consciousness and memories in an AI that would allow the princess to interact with him even after his death.  What we’re doing here won’t be quite so complicated.  The extractor takes the memories from the person’s viewpoint and extrapolates the environment based on them, creating an external view that includes the person themselves.  The end result can be played on a view-screen.”

“Like a movie?”  Hunk asked, tilting his head.

“If you are referring to the old alien soap operas you lot insist on watching sometimes -- and, might I add, incorrectly guessing the dialogue and plot of -- then yes, it is somewhat like that.”  Coran said.  A new screen came up, covered in alien writing, with a blinking green option.  He looked up at all of them, particularly at Pidge and Shiro.  “Shall we let him wake up?”  

“Please.”  Shiro said, while Pidge nodded eagerly.  

Coran pressed the button, and the cryopod slid open with a puff of cold air and low steam curling along the floor.  Matt shivered and his eyes blinked open.  They were back to the same hazel as Pidge’s, clear and without a trace of yellow in them.  He stood where he was for a moment, then looked looked down at his hands.  His eyes fell shut, face crumpling as his hands curled into loose fists.  

“Matt?”  Pidge stepped forward to help him out of the pod, a small, relieved smile on her lips, but her face fell when Matt’s head snapped up, eyes wide and fearful, and he stumbled back until he hit the back of the cryotube.  Pidge stilled, looking concerned.  “Mattie?  Are you okay?”

“No.”  He bit out the word, his voice choked with emotion.  “Stay back.  Don’t come any closer.”  

“What’s wrong?”  Pidge asked, a hint of fear creeping into her voice.  “Are you still in pain?”  She took another step forward, and he shrank in on himself.

“No!”  He shouted, the volume taking them by surprise.  “Stay away from me!”  He hugged his arms around his waist, shoulders hunched forward.  

“Matt, if you’re still hurting somewhere, you need to tell us--” Shiro’s words were cut off as Matt shouted again.  

“ _ I don’t want to hurt you! _ ”  He looked up, tears shining as his eyes found his sister and Shiro.  “You said I attacked you before.  I don’t want to do it again.”

“But that was because the Galra put some kind of toxin in you to control you.”  Pidge said.  “It’s gone, now!  The healing pods fixed it!”

“You can’t fix  _ this _ !”  Matt held out his hands, palms up.  The planes of his palms were made of smooth metal, the left one with a slight circle in the center of his palm where the laser had fired from when he had fought them before.  He curled his fingers into fists and looked up, determined.  “Put me back in here, in this… healing thing.  Don’t let me come out until my arms and legs are back to normal.”

“Unfortunately, that goes beyond what these cryotubes can do.”  Coran said gently.

Matt’s expression closed up like a shutter over a window.  “Then, at the very least, just keep me in there.  Make it so that I can’t hurt anyone anymore.”          

“Now that the toxin is out of your system, you won’t hurt anyone.”  Shiro said.  “You’ll be fine--”

“What part of this is  _ fine _ , Shiro?!”  Matt rounded on him.  The other three paladins reached for their bayards, but Shiro simply held up a hand.  His right hand.  

“It may take a while to feel that way again,” Shiro said evenly, as Matt’s eyes locked on his own Galra-tech arm.  “But you  _ will _ be fine.  I promise.”  He knew better than anyone that Matt would never go back to the way he was before; an innocent, optimistic, kid that was naive to the dangers of the universe.  He could never be the same as he was before the Kerberos mission was abducted.  But, given time, he could be ‘okay’, at least.

Matt lifted his gaze from Shiro’s hand to his face, searching for something there.  He looked down for a moment, then slowly stepped out of the cryotube.  Pidge took a step toward him, lifting her arms, but he looked panicked and shook his head.  “No… please, I can’t… not yet.”

Pidge bit her lip, but nodded and stepped back.  She picked up the folded-up blanket that was next to the steps, left there after she had spent the night there.  “Here.  You must be cold.”  

He considered the blanket for a long moment before hesitantly reaching out to take it.  After he had wrapped it around his shoulders, Pidge spoke up again.  “Are you hungry?  We can get you some food.  Or water.  Do you need anything?”  

“I’m… fine.”  Matt said, but his words were diminished by the growl that his stomach let out.  He winced.  “...Maybe.”  

“You can have some food goo, or I can try to whip up something closer to Earth food if you want.”  Hunk offered.  Pidge started to hold out her hand for her brother, then faltered and let the gesture fade into an awkward beckon when he leaned away just the slightest bit.  Clearly, she wanted to touch him and reassure herself that it was really him, but she didn’t want to scare him.  

~~~~~

It was nearly lunch time anyway, so the rest of them took their normal meal after settling Matt into a chair with a plate of goo.  Pidge took a seat next to him and tried to ignore the way he leaned away from her slightly, as if he was afraid of her.  Shiro sat across the table from him, with the other paladins filling in to Shiro and Pidge’s sides and Allura at her place at the head of the table.  

Introductions went around as they started eating, and they filled Matt in on what they could about Voltron and their fight against Zarkon.  Matt listened quietly, picking at his food, and tried his best to remember anything he could that had happened.  Most of it lined up with Shiro’s memories of before they had been separated, but he still could not remember anything after Shiro’s escape.  

Near the end of the meal, Matt set down the spoon he had been pushing around the goo left on his plate and turned to Coran.  “Did you say you could figure out a way to unlock my memories?”

“Well, not quite…” Coran said hesitantly.  “We extracted the memories from you while you were finishing up the healing process, and now that they have been written into a file, we can play them and you can view them.  But even seeing them for yourself might not be enough to cause you to remember the events for yourself.”  

“But I’ll at least know what happened.”  Matt clarified.

“Most likely.”  Coran nodded.  

Matt stood up.  “Can I see them now?”  

Coran cast an uncertain look at Shiro before turning back to Matt.  “Perhaps it would be better if you rested for a while.”

“I want to see them.”  Matt said firmly.

“We have no idea what you’ll find in those memories.”  Allura pointed out.  “If it was traumatic enough to cause amnesia, it may cause you to go into shock just by looking at them.”

“I  _ have  _ to know what happened.”  Matt said, determination hardening his expression.  “Please… I just… I need to know.”  

Coran nodded, understanding clear in his eyes.  “Alright.”  

Matt followed Coran down the hall, the rest of the group trailing behind them.  They went to the room with the circle of couches, where a large view-screen could be projected on the far wall.  How strange, Shiro thought, that the room that the paladins had commandeered for group movie nights was now being used for this.  Matt took a seat closest to the screen while Coran tapped at the controls, and Pidge sat down next to him.  She reached for him, hesitant, but when he didn’t pull away from her this time, she hugged his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder.  “Is this okay?”

Matt swallowed thickly, looking tense.  She shifted to let go of his arm and instead wrapped her arm around the back of his waist.  He nodded, relaxing minimally.  “That’s fine.  That part is still me.”  He said, his fingers curling into a fist against his knee.  

She squeezed him gently in a side-hug.  “Every part of you is you.”

“Not the metal parts.”  Matt looked away.

“I’ve worked on Shiro’s arm plenty of times, enough to know that it’s a part of him rather than just a machine.”  Pidge said firmly.  “But if you don’t want me to touch the metal parts, that’s okay.  But you are still you, no matter what.”  She squeezed him again, surprised at the hard muscle that was there.  She definitely remembered from trips to the beach and that Matt was pretty thin, what might be called scrawny or gangly.  This muscle wasn’t there before.  But, then again, even Shiro had been a little smaller before the Kerberos mission, gaining weight in the form of pure muscle as a gladiator.

Coran’s fingers still over the keypad for a moment as he glances at Matt.  “You’re sure about this?”  

“Yes.”  Matt nodded resolutely.  

“If it becomes too much, you can stop watching.  And come back to it later.”  Shiro added the last bit at Matt shot him a pointed look.  He understood; given the chance, he would of course want to know what had happened to him.  But Matt had only just woken up from… whatever had been done to him, and he didn’t want to overwhelm him.  

“I want to see it.”  Matt said, speaking to all of them but looking at Coran.  “Please.”  

The Altean man nodded and pressed a button.  The view-screen glowed to life, showing an image that already had Pidge clapping a hand over her mouth.  

On the screen, Matt was only just beginning to stir, a dark bruise on his forehead a sign that he might have been knocked unconscious.  He was sitting in a strange chair, his arms and legs bound to the chair with thick straps.  He looked to be in some kind of laboratory, based on the vials of liquid and scientific equipment sitting on the steel countertops and stacked along the purple shelves along one of the walls.  The other part of the room looked like the operating room Shiro remembered from the time Ulaz had helped him escape, and the sight sent a chill through him.

_ Matt sat up as much as he could, looking around with eyes wide with fear.  He tugged against the restraints, but they held fast.   _

_ A hooded figure entered the room, sweeping the door open with a wave of her hand.  Matt jumped, startled.  “Who are you?  What are you doing?” _

_ “Restrain it.”  The hooded figure spoke in a cold, grainy voice to one of the masked figures that had followed her in, ignoring Matt.   _

_ “Yes, Lady Haggar.”  The masked figure picked up a strange-looking metal apparatus and approached Matt, who balked.   _

_ “What is that?!  What are you-- no, stop!”   _

_ The masked figure grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head forward, exposing the back of his neck.  They didn’t even seem to notice him struggling as they fitted the apparatus around his head and neck, preventing him from moving his head.   _

_ “Please, no, just let me go!”   _

_ “Prepare the serum implant.”  The hooded figure -- Haggar--continued as if she couldn’t even hear Matt.  The masked figure picked up what looked like a rounded purple gemstone that was flat on one side and placed it in her waiting palm.   _

_ “What is that?!  What are you doing?!  No, stop!”   _

_ She ignored him and moved behind the chair, her long robes sweeping against the steel floor.  She placed the flat side of the gemstone-like device against the base of his neck, right over the knob where his spine met his neck.   _

_ “Shall I gag the creature, Lady Haggar?”  The masked figure asked. _

_ “There will be no need.”  She replied, raising her other hand, palm facing forward and long nails arched like hooks.  “As soon as this is over, it will not struggle anymore.”  Black energy seemed to gather in front of her hand, crackling with purple lightning.   _

_ “What are you doing?!  Please, just let me--”  Matt cut off with an ear-splitting scream.  Tendrils of wire -- or perhaps something  _ **_living_ ** _ \-- grew out of the stone and burrowed their way through his skin, wrapping around his spinal cord and boring into his brain.  He kept screaming, and then all of the sudden, he stopped.  There was a pulse of energy that shook through him, and everything flickered for a moment before discoloring, as if a yellow haze had been cast over the room.  In the silence that rang after Matt’s scream died away, Haggar lowered her hand and the masked figure quickly undid the restraints binding Matt to the chair.  His eyes were closed, and he didn’t slump forward or try to move even when the restraints were gone.   _

_ Haggar walked around to the front of the chair, looking down at him.  “Awaken.”  She commanded, her voice cold. _

_ Matt’s eyes snapped open, pupil-less and a flat, glowing yellow.  Other than that, he did not move.   _

_ A cruel smile spread over Haggar’s lips under the hood.  “Stand up.”   _

_ Matt got to his feet instantly, standing at attention.  She circled around him slowly, looking him up and down like someone might a prize horse.   _

_ “Who do you serve?”  She asked, long-nailed thumb rubbing over the purple stone on the back of his neck.   _

_ “You, my lady.”  Matt replied, his voice sounding strangely dead and toneless. _

_ “And…?”  She pressed, coming around the other side. _

_ “And the Galra Empire.”  Matt added.  “I fight in the name of Galra.”   _

_ Haggar nodded, satisfied.  “You will get your chance to fight for the Galra Empire.”  She told him, running a finger along his shoulder as she came around to the front.  “But first, we must make you a fighter.  You will be the new champion, a better champion.”  She let her hand drop to her side, grinning maliciously.  “Vrepit sa.” _

_ “Vrepit sa.”  Matt touched his fist to his heart in a Galra salute.   _

The image flickered on the view-screen, blinking out before showing them a new scene.  This one, too, seemed to be covered in a yellow haze, as if they were looking at it through yellow-tinted sunglasses.  Pidge glanced at Matt, but found him watched the scene raptly, his expression hard.

_ All around the arena, Galra cheered for the battle to begin.  Matt walked out one set of doors into the pit, blood staining his clothes and smeared across his cheek, while a smaller alien entered through the doors on the opposite side.  Eyes glowing yellow, Matt hefted the bloodstained blade in his hand, grinning maniacally even as the other alien quivered before him.  The alien was holding a blade as well, but didn’t seem to know how to use it.  Barely two moves into the fight, Matt had disarmed the alien and sent the knife skidding away to lie in the dirt.   _

_ The alien stumbled back and raised its hands to shield itself.  “Please!  Have mercy!”   _

_ The crowd cheered as Matt drew back his arm and slashed across the alien from shoulder to hip.  There was no mercy here.  Blood splattered across the dirt as the alien’s body dropped to the ground.  Matt turned around and grinned at the aliens waiting in the tunnel, blood splashed across his face and eyes glowing yellow.  “Who’s next?” _

The scene flickered out again before playing another scene, eerily similar to the previous one but with a slightly bigger alien.  Matt sat stiffly on the couch between Pidge and Shiro, hand clasped over his mouth and eyes wide as he witnessed the horror play out on the screen.  Shiro reached down and touched his other hand, expression stony and unreadable.  He knew the horrors of the Galra fighting ring, but he had never seen it like this.  On the screen, Matt slaughtered every single one of his opponents, no matter how hard they fought or how much they pleaded for their lives.  The montage of death was broken, however, by a scene of Matt seated in a chair next to a small operating table, his arm resting on the table as a medic stitched up a long, jagged wound on his forearm.  This time, the yellow haze was gone.

_ His eyes were closed, face turned away from the sight.  He might have looked like he was resting, if not for the hand clenched into a fist against his knee.  Haggar stalked back and forth in front of him, her arms crossed.   _

_ “You have become a skilled fighter,” she mused aloud.  “But your body’s natural defenses are shamefully weak.  Claws have only to graze you to break your thin skin.  You will not be able to advance much further.  You’ll never be able to challenge the old Champion.  Unless I can strengthen your body.”  _

_ The medic finished up the last stitch and set down his tools.  Matt acted quickly.  His eyes snapped open -- hazel eyes, not yellow -- and he grabbed the medic’s scissors with his good hand, lunging toward Haggar with his makeshift weapon clenched in his fist.  Before he could reach her, she lifted a hand with a frown and he froze where he stood, immobilized.  The scissors clattered to the floor. _

_ “I won’t just be your pawn anymore…” Matt growled through clenched teeth.  “ _ **_You_ ** _ made me kill those people!  I won’t do it!  I’ll keep fighting you!” _

_ She laughed, high and cold.  “You think you have a choice?  You are only a tool for me to use how I see fit.  I made you what you are, a fighter worthy of taking on the Champion.” _

_ “I’ll kill you!”  Matt shouted.  “You forced me to kill all those others, I’ll kill you to atone for it!”   _

_ “You can never atone for what you’ve done.”  Haggar told him.  “Just give in and accept that.  Not that it matters either way; you’ll still do my bidding.”   Energy pulsed from her hand, sweeping over him and tinting the whole room yellow again.  Matt’s eyes opened again, revealing the flat yellow eyes of a Galra.  This time, he didn’t struggle.   _

More scenes flashed by, each growing bloodier than the last.  They watched, silent and horror-struck, as the Matt on the screen slaughtered at least a dozen more aliens, the opponents growing bigger with every match.  He started visibly struggling against the larger ones, having no natural armor and being much smaller.  Pidge had to look away when a monster with a huge claw snapped his leg in half as easily as a pencil, shards of bone sticking out of his thigh as he screamed.  

_ He was still screaming in pain when the druids strapped him down to the operating table, manhandling his mangled leg into position on the steel table.  Haggar entered the room, her robes sweeping the bloody floor, and eyed him with distaste, as if he were something rotten found under her shoe and not a living, breathing, suffering human being.  “Sedate it enough to shut it up.  I cannot work with that racket.” _

_ “Yes, Lady Haggar.”  With little preamble, one of the druids took out a syringe full of some sort of lilac-colored liquid and injected it into the inside of his elbow.  A minute or so later, Matt’s screams subsided with a whimper as his body went numb.   _

_ “It is fortunate that I have already made plans to replace its fragile limbs with something more suitable.  We will start with one,” Haggar announced, picking up what looked like a metal leg with circuitry and wiring poking out of the top.  “If its body does not reject it, we will add the others.  Then we shall see how it fares in the ring with these new enhancements.”   _

_ Unable to feel it but still able to see it, Matt screwed his eyes shut and turned his head to the side as the medic began sawing into his ruined leg.  A hand twisted in his hair, a sharp burning sensation at the roots when Haggar yanked his head back.  “What’s the matter, little champion-to-be?  You should be used to the sight of blood by now.  After all, it’s all over your hands.”  She laughed and released his hair to fit the prosthetic in place at the upper thigh.  Even with the anesthetic, connecting the nerves to the machinery felt like he was being burned alive, and he screamed as the scene faded out. _

There was a brief glimpse of Matt huddled on the floor of a dark, otherwise empty cell, whimpering and crying out in pain as yellow flickered weakly in and out.  It was gone nearly as soon as it had come, and the next scene was bathed in yellow once more.  

_ Matt stood in the center of his cell, on his own two feet -- one made of flesh, the other of metal -- while Haggar circled around him, studying him.   _

_ “Your body has reacted well,” she told him, sounding pleased.  “Soon, we will be able to do the other three, and then you can really put your skills to the test in the arena.”  She paused, considering him.  “What will these enhancements help you do?” _

_ “To win.”  Matt replied, his voice flat.   _

_ “And why do you want to win?” _

_ “To beat the Champion.”  Matt said.  “To take the title of Champion away from him.” _

_ “That’s right,” she purred.  “He doesn’t deserve that title.  He is a weakling who stole that title and then ran away from the Empire, fleeing like the coward he is.  He is not worthy of having a place in the Galra Empire.  You, on the other hand, have served me well, and in turn have served Emperor Zarkon well.  You will be remembered as the Champion of the Galra.  But first, you must take that honor from that cowardly excuse for a living creature.  You must find him, challenge him, kill him, and then bring his body home for the Emperor.  Do this, and you will be hailed as a hero of the Galra.  Kill the Champion.” _

_ “I will kill the Champion.”  Matt intoned, voice dead. _

The scene changed, again and again, each time showing the druids operating on another one of Matt’s limbs while he screamed and begged for them to stop, interspersed with images of him recovering each time, in pain and alone in his cell.  More scenes came, tinted yellow, and showed Matt decimating opponent after opponent in the gladiator ring with the help of his enhanced limbs.  The carnage was staggering; he butchered anything smaller than himself and ruthlessly attacked anything bigger, always winning.  Between the fights, Haggar whispered to him like a snake, feeding him lies about the Champion to brainwash him.  

_ A masked druid knocked on the door.  “Lady Haggar, we have word that Voltron is on planet Nenayednan helping some insurgents.”   _

_ Haggar looked up from where she was examining the back of Matt’s neck, letting his hair fall over the implant there.  “Excellent.”  She smiled slowly, coming around to the front.  “What are you going to do?”   _

_ “Kill the Champion.”  Matt replied automatically.  “Bring his body and the Black Lion to Emperor Zarkon.” _

_ She nodded.  “You are ready.”   _

_ They put Matt in a large, coffin-shaped pod, the exterior grayish-purple with glowing red accents.  The chamber sealed him in, and he closed his eyes while the pod shook and rattled as it went flying through space.  There was an almighty crash, and then the walls fell apart.  Matt’s eyes snapped open, glowing yellow, and dismissed the other four figures in their colored armor as his eyes locked on his target, the one in black. _

“Oh look, there we are.”  Hunk commented, drawing Shiro’s attention away from the screen for a moment.

“And we know how it goes from here,” Lance added, looking toward Coran.

“No,” Matt spoke up, eyes fixed on the screen.  “I want to see everything.”  

Coran nodded and let the scene play out.  The yellow haze flickered on and off, knocked loose by Pidge’s words and the punch she delivered to his cheek.  She winced and covered her eyes -- why had that seemed like a good idea at the time? -- but Matt actually chuckled, or at least exhaled a rush of breath that was almost a laugh.  

“Good job, sis,” he told her.  

“I didn’t mean it.”  Pidge said, squeezing his waist in a hug.  “It was the only thing I could think of.”

Matt nodded, understanding, and turned back to watch the rest of the scene play out.  He frowned thoughtfully as he watched Pidge shatter the implant on the back of his neck with a deadly-looking triangle-shaped glowing dagger, and the yellow haze covering the scene cracked and fell away.  He watched Shiro pick up his limp body and bring him to what looked like an enormous castle, and they put him in a tube that, he remembered, had made him feel intensely cold and unable to move.  He watched the final scene play out, where he had come stumbling out of the cryotube; even though he could remember it, he hadn’t understood what was going on at all at the time.  His reaction made sense, he thought.  Although he hadn’t known what the cyborg limbs were or how he had got them, he had been able to tell that they were dangerous.  Even without his memories, he had known, at some level, what he had done.

When the scene ended with Matt being sealed in the healing pod again, the view-screen went dark.  Coran turned it off.  “That’s all there is.  After that, you woke up again, and I believe you can remember how it went from there.”  

Matt nodded.  “Thank you.  For showing me that.”  

“Did you remember any of it, while you were watching it?”  Shiro asked.  

Matt shook his head and stood up.  “I would like to be alone now.  Do I have permission to be unguarded or will you be placing me in a cell?”  

Everyone stared at him.  

“Matt, you’re… you’re not a prisoner.”  Pidge told him gently, standing up and taking his hand.  

“I’m dangerous.  We all saw that.”  Matt refused to look at her, carefully tugging his hands out of hers.  “You shouldn’t trust me.  I might attack you again, or go after Shiro.  You saw how they beat that into me.”  

They hated to admit it, but he had a point; even if the toxin was out of his system, the brainwashing might have been done at a more subconscious level.  Who knew if he might still be under that influence?

He looked up, still not meeting Pidge’s eyes as he sought out Allura.  “Princess, please, lock me up somewhere.”

Allura studied him carefully for a few moments.  “Will you rest easier if you are confined?”  

“Yes.”  Matt replied, cutting off Pidge’s indignant protest.  “Please.  I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”  

Allura nodded.  “Coran, show him to one of the guest quarters.  Lock the door from the outside.”

“You can’t be serious!”  Pidge glared at her.  “This isn’t some criminal, he’s my  _ brother _ !”

“It is his wish.”  Allura said firmly.  “And it is the safest course of action, until we learn more.”

“It’s alright, Katie.”  Matt told her, squeezing her hand.

She looked conflicted for a few moments, then nodded, still uncertain.  “It’s just for a little while.  I promise.”

Matt smiled ruefully.  They would have to see about that.  

~~~~~

Coran led him down several sets of corridors until he stopped in front of a door and opened it by pressing his palm to the sensor next to the door.  It opened to reveal a room with a bed, desk, and wardrobe, along with another door off to the side.  The room was small, but comfortable-looking, and it was much nicer than anything Matt had been in since being captured.  

“There are sleeping clothes in a variety of sizes in the wardrobe, should you wish to change.  There is a bathroom with a shower through there,” Coran pointed to the door.  “I don’t know how much you know about your… limbs, but I do know that Shiro has no trouble showering with his arm, and I suspect the technology is similar.”  He tapped a few commands into the sensor next to the door.  “The door will lock from the outside, but any of the paladins will be authorized to enter, as well as myself and the princess.  You may use the inter-castle communication system, should you wish to see or speak with someone, or request food.”  

Matt nodded, privately thinking he would do none of that.  He couldn’t trust himself to be around any of them, and he did not deserve comforts like food.  

Coran glanced at him.  “Don’t give me that look; I recognize it from the paladins.  If you do not request food at other times, of course something will be brought to you at meal times.  The others eat three meals a quintant.  I assume you will do the same, as a human.”

Was he?  At this point, he was really more machine than human.  

Coran finished setting the controls and straightened up.  “After you have rested, I will be back to examine your Galra-tech limbs and assess any future danger associated with them.  If it is alright, I may bring Hunk or Pidge with me, as they have also worked on Shiro’s arm from time to time.  Before I go, is there anything else you need?”

Matt shook his head.  “No.  Thank you.”

“You’re very polite and level-headed, for someone claiming to have been brainwashed.”  Coran said thoughtfully.  “That’s a good sign.  I hope we can get this straightened out soon.”  

After Coran left, Matt waited a few seconds and then pressed his palm to the sensor next to the door.  It flashed red and beeped at him, the alien characters most likely spelling out something along the lines of ‘denied’.  He nodded once to himself, satisfied, and turned away to inspect the rest of the room.  The walls and blankets on the bed were a soft, light blue, the color a welcome reprieve from the endless dark purple of the Galra ships.  Opening the wardrobe, he examined the blue sleeping clothes inside -- simple, loose pants and shirts.  He was still wearing the purple jumpsuit from the gladiator prison, but the arms and legs were tattered at the right shoulder, left elbow, and both knees, likely blown off in the fight.  It was unnerving that their weapons had done no visible damage to the Galra-tech limbs despite disintegrating part of his clothes.

He closed the wardrobe without taking any of the clothes.  His body was barely human anyway; it was more Galra machine than human at this point, so it was only fitting that he would continue to wear Galra clothes.  As a prisoner, self-imposed or otherwise, it was all he deserved.  

Matt lay back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling.  He wanted to sleep, to wake up and pretend this was all a terrible dream.  It would almost be better if he woke up still in the prison.  He would trade anything if it could mean that what he had seen on that view-screen was just a dream, that he had never killed anyone without remorse like that.  If he could go back to before he had been turned into a monster.  Even if it meant not finding his sister or Shiro and going back to that hell, he would take it, because this… this was worse than any hell he could imagine.  

He curled up on his side facing the wall and wrapped his arms -- could they even be called  _ his _ arms? -- around himself.  Images flashed through his mind of what he had seen, but it was still as if he was looking at them from the outside rather than remembering them himself.  That was dangerous, he thought.  What would happen, if they managed to unlock his memories, only to find him reduced to that blood-thirsty killing machine hell-bent on taking Shiro’s life?  What would that do to Katie?  To Shiro?  They had just gotten him back, or so they thought… realizing he had turned into an unsalvageable monster would crush them.  He didn’t want to bring more pain to their lives, not after everything they had been through.  Shiro was only marginally better off than him, as someone who had gone through the same imprisonment but had managed to escape.  And Katie… she had searched the galaxy and beyond for him, only to find him broken and beyond saving.  He couldn’t imagine the pain that must have brought her.

A knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts, surprising him.  “Matt?  It’s Shiro.  Can I come in?”

Matt said nothing.  Maybe Shiro would think he was asleep and just leave him.  That would be best for his safety, after all.  But he heard the door slide open behind him, closing again a few seconds later.

“Hey,” Shiro said quietly, and he felt the bed dip slightly behind him.  

“You shouldn’t be here.”  Matt told him.

“Why not?”  Shiro asked, his tone even.

“I could hurt you.”  Hadn’t Shiro seen the memories too?  Matt had been trained to kill him for the past year.

“I could hurt you, too.”  Shiro replied.  “That’s the risk that comes with human interaction.”

“I’m not human.”  Matt said, closing his eyes.  

“You are.”

Matt’s eyes snapped open again and he sat up, angry.  “Does  _ this  _ look human to you, Shiro?!”  He held up his hands, all unearthly metal.  “They  _ took  _ my humanity away from me!  They made me a monster!”  

“You think you’re a monster?”  Shiro asked, looking at him.

Matt scoffed and turned away from him.  “I don’t see how I can be anything but, at this point.”

“Am I a monster?”

The question took Matt by surprise, making him look up.  Shiro was watching him, his own metal hand lifted.

Matt shook his head.  “That’s different.”  He saw what Shiro was trying to do, of course, but they couldn’t be compared.

“Why?”  Shiro asked.  “Because it’s less than yours?  And what about amputees, and people born without limbs?  Are they monsters, or anything less than fully human?”

“Of course not.”  Matt replied.  “But that’s  _ different _ \--”

“It’s not.”

“It’s different because I’ve killed people.”  Matt told him.

“I’ve killed people.”  Shiro said, looking away.  “In the arena, and in battles.  We all have, even your sister.”

His words made Matt pause, not knowing how to reply.  

Shiro leaned his elbows on his knees.  “War isn’t pretty.  Neither is being a prisoner of war.  We had to do terrible things, and terrible things have been done to us.  That doesn’t make us any less human.  And humanity isn’t measured by the percentage of your body that is the same organic matter you were born with.  If we took off these Galra-tech limbs, we would be amputees, but human amputees.  If we put on regular prosthetics, we wouldn’t be any less human.  These are just high-tech prosthetics.”  He sat up and looked down at his right hand, wiggling the robotic fingers.  The movement was accompanied by a barely-perceptible mechanical whir.  “I was afraid of my arm for a long time.  I still don’t know exactly how I got it, or what they intended me to do with it.  Even now, the thought that there is something that can be a weapon, and that it’s attached to my body at all times… even now, that still unnerves me.  But the important thing to remember is that, even though it’s not the one I was born with, now, it’s  _ my  _ arm.  I’m the one who controls its movements.  I’m the one who gets to decide whether to use it as a weapon or to extend it in help.  And even when I use it as a weapon, I get to decide whether it is used to protect others or harm them.  It’s no different than your sister using her hand to pick up a knife and stab someone with it.  Each of us are in control of our own bodies, regardless of whether we’re made of metal or flesh.”

Matt looked down, thinking about Shiro’s words.  “I don’t know if I am.”  He admitted in a whisper.  “In control of my body, that is.  I don’t know what she did to me.”  How deep did Haggar’s brainwashing go?  Would it still affect him, even without that toxin?  He reached up and felt at the back of his neck, metal fingers catching on the implant there with a small  _ clink _ .  

Shiro nodded.  “I see a definite difference in the Matt we fought a few days ago and the Matt sitting next to me now.  I think you are in control now.  Coran will remove that thing, and run some tests just to be sure.”  

“What if I fail the tests?”  Matt asked, heart pounding anxiously.

“Whatever she trained you to do, we can teach you to overcome.”  Shiro said.  “It’s not always easy; I know that better than anyone.  But I believe in you, and I know your sister does, too.”

Matt was quiet for a long minute.  Finally, he reached down took Shiro’s hand.  Shiro wove their fingers together, and Matt imagined he could feel the warmth of his grip.  He could do this.  If Shiro could forgive him for what he had become-- no, for what he had done, then maybe he could forgive himself, too.  He had gone through something unimaginable, but that didn’t have to define him forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Me: boy do I love Matt Holt.  
> Also me: *writes this*  
> Me: Yep. I just love him so much.
> 
> (this poor guy… the shit I put him through, smh) 
> 
> Please let me know if you liked it! Thanks for reading!


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